Monday, December 19, 2005

That night of drunkenness that culminated in getting kicked out of Beauty Bar and puking in my sleep will never escape me. Tonight, at Metropolitan, at their holiday party, I was having such a good time, talking to friends and for a bit to Matt, whom I wanted to sleep with so bad, stared at him and was so jealous of my past self that dated him for that brief time, could not even fathom that at one time I had this boy so often who now seems so unattainable.

Later outside, I was talking to Kevin, and like I do so often with want of something to say, I said, "Let's gossip." About what, he said. Name a person, I said. Craig, he said. And, of course, the hairs pricked on my arms and I wanted to hear what he had to say and he said he didn't have any gossip, that Craig and Matt were dating, which I already knew after seeing them at Beauty Bar.

Oh, fuck.

I started to realize why I probably got kicked out of Beauty Bar and was terrified that I didn't remember Kevin, Matt, or Craig there. You could essentially tell me I did anything that night and I would not know any better. Kevin informed me that I told him I was going to kill him. Great. I searched out Matt to find out more details, so full of shame, and just wanting to die, but wanting to know why I should die before doing so. Matt told me that I propositioned him, which is nothing new, he added like a dickhead, but that I did so right in front of Craig. Ugh. And then I guess I told them we should start a fight with someone and I don't even know, it all became so mortifying that I couldn't even really listen, was also so depressed that Matt and Craig were dating, these two boys that I like so much, liking each other and not me. And fuck, fuck, fuck.

And then because he's so good at those cutting remarks, Matt said something along the lines of, "It's okay, Charlie, we all have those bad nights. You, however, just seem to have them way more than anybody else." And from that cute face, that body that I want to hold, came that, and yet, still, that did not mitigate my desire for him in the slightest.

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